


sleep is for suckers

by goodmorninglou



Series: the adventures of a wild sprace’s apartment [44]
Category: Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: M/M, Sprace Apartment AU, babies don’t sleep, dorian is a comedian and also precious, sprace, the bois are real sleepy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-20
Updated: 2019-09-20
Packaged: 2020-10-24 09:56:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 669
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20704076
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goodmorninglou/pseuds/goodmorninglou
Summary: spot and race deal with a sleepless baby





	sleep is for suckers

**Author's Note:**

> hi y’all  
so, in case you haven’t noticed, my posting schedule has slowed. this series is coming to a close, which makes me sad because i love it so very much, and even though the javid series will come soon after this, sprace still holds a special place in my heart. i apologize for my fritzy schedule, but please stick with me

Dorian decided, somewhere in between his first birthday and his fourteenth month, that he was absolutely sick of sleeping.

It was really, really fun for Race and Spot.

Spot was sitting on the couch at roughly 2:43 a.m., holding a very awake Dorian in his arms. His eyes try to slide shut; he hadn’t gotten more than four hours of sleep in the past three days, and knows it’s the same for Race.

“Daddy!” Dorian exclaims happily, and then lists forward to splay his hand across Spot’s nose. His blond curls are perfectly young and fine on his head, and his brown eyes are far too awake.

Spot groans defeatedly. “Sleep, just sleep,” he begs tears of exhaust pricking behind his eyes.

Dorian giggles. “No.” He says joyfully. “No no no no no no.”

“Why?” Spot whines, holding Dorian close in some attempt to hug him into exhaust.

“Kebause.” Dorian says simply.

Spot sighs. “It’s  _because,_ chickadee.” He corrects tiredly.

But his son just repeats, “Kebause.” And then. “Munch! Schmidt! Squirrel!” Except he can’t really pronounce Squirrel, so it comes out sounding more like  _Scwal!_

“Those are the cats, yes.” Spot agrees. “Cats really like to sleep, you know.”

“ Seep? ” Dorian’s brows draw together adorably. 

He nods. “Sleep.”  Spot puts a hand on the side of Dorian’s face, and Dorian leans into it fully. “How can one face cause so many exhausted tears?”

Dorian makes an expression, sort of like ‘Who knows?’ and then turns and says happily, “Dada!”

Race is standing—or leaning, really—in the doorway of their bedroom, two different slippers on his feet and the banana suit on his body.

“Tonio, bubba, why are you wearing the banana suit?” Spot slurs in a whisper, eyelids dropping as Dorian bounces on his lap.

Race shrugs, looks down as if he didn’t really realize he was actually wearing it, and then murmurs, “I haven’t done laundry in eight days. This is the only thing that’s clean.”

Spot blinks. “You haven’t?”

Race shakes his head and yawns.

“Damn.” His brows furrow. “How long have I been wearing this t-shirt?”

“Three days.” Race yawns again, and then sits tiredly on the couch beside Spot, banana costume eye-catching but eyes nearly shut.

Spot sighs quietly. “This baby is hard.” He whispers, resting his head on Race’s shoulder.

Race takes Dorian from Spot’s arms, reprieving him to fall asleep or eat something or be more than a tired zombie that they’ve both become.

“We can do it.” Race says, softly but with feeling, and smiles sleepily at Dorian.

“Bana!” Dorian exclaims happily, fisting the yellow fabric in his pudgy fist.

“Close, but keep trying.” Race murmurs, and unknots a tangle in one of Dorian’s curls as gently as he can.

Their son gurgles, “Banananana.”

“Oh, so it’s not a matter of not knowing it, it’s just counting.” Race notes, and Spot manages a weak grin. “I’ll excuse you from not knowing numbers, considering I still change your diapers. It’d be pretty cool if you did know those, though.” Race grinned, tired as it was, and Dorian returned it toothily. “Can you say ‘one’? One?”

“One!” Dorian yelled triumphantly, and Race leaned back at the aggressive noise.

“Jesus, this kid’s got pipes.” Race chuckled, turning to look at Spot.

But Spot was long past asleep, head tilted back and resting on the couch, mouth slightly agape, black curls falling over his brow. His chest rose and fell steadily, pupils shifting beneath his eyelids.

“God, I love you.” Race murmured, and Dorian leaned against his chest. “Do you know how much I love your daddy?” He whispered into his son’s hair, one hand patting his back softly. “Lots.”

“Lots.” Dorian agreed, leaning back to grab at Race’s chin. “Lots lots lots.”

Race nodded. “I love you lots too.” Dorian grinned. “Can you say ‘I love you’?”

“I luh you.” Dorian giggled, and Race smiled and pulled him into his chest again.

“Good to hear, chickadee.” He chuckled quietly. “Good to hear.”

**Author's Note:**

> i love dorian so much like wow  
~~THE BANANA SUIT HAS RETURNED FOR LUNAR WHO REQUESTED IT IN THE COMMENTS OF WHATS WRONG WITH YOUR OWN CLOTHES, I LOVE YOU MY DEAR~~  
be happy!! did you know babies have evolved to be adorable?? what about that isn’t happy??  
i LOVE y’all so much  
<333


End file.
